The Turnbo Manuscripts

by Silas Claiborne Turnbo
1844-1925

The old timer Ezekiel Eslick, a few years before his death, gave me an
account of finding other game in a tree instead of a coon which they expected
to find. Mr. Eslick said that when he was a small plow boy his father lived
on Cowskin, a tributary stream of Beaver Creek. "The land on which
we lived lies in now what is know as Douglas County, Mo. Our corn was large
enough to run around with the old fashioned bull tongue plow, and in the
early days of May when the foliage on the trees was half grown father one
morning put me and brother Sam to plowing in the young corn. We boys did
most of the farming while father killed deer for the pelts and venison.
On the days of our first days work in the corn that year happened
the little incident I am going to relate to you. The little field was near
the house. In the middle of the forenoon while we were busy at work our
two dogs came into the field and frolicked and played in a lively way on
the fresh plowed ground. The canine seemed in an unusually playful mood
and remained in the field until nearly noon, when all at once there seemed
something wrong and with fierce growls and hair standing straight out they
both leaped over the fence to the outside and started on a hot trail of
some animal which had approached near the fence, but owing to the foliage
on the small timber and tall grass we were not able to see what sort of
creature it was. We conjectured that it was a big coon and wondered what
caused the dogs to make such a big to-do about a coon. After a sharp chase
of a half a mile down the creek they hustled Mr. Coon as we supposed it
was up a tree and we heard the dogs barking furiously and thought from the
great noise the dogs were making that it must be an uncommon sized coon.
As it was now near turning out time for dinner we took the harness off of
our horses and hitched them and went down to where the dogs were treed to
enjoy a little fun with the coon. The dogs were barking up a big post oak
tree that stood on the side of a low bluff near the edge of the creek. A
large limb of the tree which branched out 8 feet above the foot of the tree
hung over a shallow pool of water. The main stem of the limb was about 12
feet above the surface of the water. A few feet above where this limb put
out from the body of the tree was a dead snag with a hole in it large enough
to admit the body of a large coon and we believed the coon had sought safety
from the dogs by running into the cavity of this snag. We were so overanxious
to rout out the supposed coon from the snag that we never thought once to
examine the limbs of the tree carefully for game except the snag. We wanted
to catch Mr. Coon to save a few ears of corn next autumn. Sam was an expert
boy at climbing trees and I says, "Sam, climb up there and scare the
coon out." Up the boy went with the agility of a fox. On reaching the
fork of the tree where the big limb put out he got up in the fork of the
tree and stood erect and while trying to peep into the hole in the dead
snag I happened to glance my eyes along the big limb that hung over the
water and was nearly struck dumb for a moment at sight of a ferocious looking
panther lying flat down on the main body of the limb. But before I could
make my tongue work to give my brother warning of his dangerous proximity
to the dreaded animal, the beast partly raised up and growled coarse and
loud. Of course this was all the warning the boy needed and turning his
head quickly and seeing what it was he was struck with terror at the sight
of the monster. Though it was not a proper place for me to laugh but it
was so amusing to see my frightened brother descending that tree. He just
turned loose and fell down and nearly rolled into the water before he was
able to stop rolling. I laughed outright. The fright from the panther hurt
him much worse than the fall did. The boys exit from the tree scared
the panther and it leaped into the water and ran out on the opposite side
of the creek and turned downstream and with long leaps it soon passed from
view. As soon as the animal struck the water the two dogs rushed across
the stream and followed the panther in close pursuit and according to the
way the dogs yelped as they ran down the creek indicated that the stealthy
beast was leading the way, but a few yards in advance. Before the dogs were
out of hearing distance we started back to the house and told our story
of the panther to father. Roland Scribnor chanced to come to our house on
horseback while we were in the midst of our tale and after listening to
all we had to tell both men agreed to follow the dogs and after eating dinner
and allowing their horses to graze awhile they took their rifles and mounted
the horses and rode off down the creek to hunt the dogs. The latter after
a chase of a mile had compelled the panther to go up another tree. When
the men got up in view of the tree the panther was in, the ugly creature
showed indications of jumping out and did before they got to shoot at it.
But the dogs soon pushed it up another tree, but it was to shy to allow
the hunters to approach in rifle range before it would leap to the ground
again and rush on down the creek. This was repeated several times before
reaching Beaver Creek and it kept on down this latter stream. By this time
it was night, but they followed the dogs down Beaver until they would tree
and when the men would ride up in hearing the panther would leap down and
run with the dogs in hot pursuit until it went up another tree. Finally
before midnight clouds obscured the stars and sky and the night was too
dark to follow the dogs through the heavy growth of timber and the men abandoned
the chase and got part of the way back home and slept in the forest till
morning and came in home for late breakfast. One of the dogs reached home
about the time father did. The other one came in on the afternoon of the
following day. We learned a few days afterward that the dog which stayed
away the longest was discovered baying the panther early one morning in
some willows at Lazarus Wrights mill pond on Beaver Creek where the
Lawrence mill was afterward built. Mr. Wright shot and killed the panther.
The dog was nearly worn out with hunger and exhaustion and after Wright
shot the panther he fed the dog and it took several hours rest before
starting back home."